Treacherous: Because Every Love Story Is A Tragedy
by Lydia Jonie
Summary: This starting may sound abrupt, but as the story will go on, it will make sense. :) ButtercupxButch, BlossomxBrick, BubblesxBoomer But tragedy and treachery knocks on every love's door...
1. Chapter 1

My sisters turned to their own rooms, and I went to mine. It was surprisingly open, though I remembered I had closed it before leaving. It meant that he had returned and, yes, when I opened the door, I saw Butch sitting on the couch, watching television. He looked up when I entered, and anger blazed in his eyes.

"Where were you?"

His voice wasn't angry, just…hard. I closed the door behind, buying time before I had to look at him. "Um…I was with Ramesh and his family. My sisters were there with me too. We hung out for some time on the balcony. Butch, are you alright?"

Anger had drained from his eyes, but he still looked pissed. "Yeah," He said, shaking his head as if to push the anger out. "So you went to meet the Ramesh family?"

"Yeah," I answered him, pulling off my shoes and sitting down next to him. "It was just, Krimmy, Josh, Sam and Sheila with me and my sisters. We set up a lounge on the balconies, drinking and you know…chilling."

"Sounds fun," Butch said bitterly, turning off the television set. I touched his forehead, pushing back the hair I knew irritated him by coming in his face. The same hair, I had to admit, made him look mysterious and very sexy. Apparently, he knew this too, because he hadn't ever had them cut. His forehead was burning.

"You seem to have a fever," I said. This was almost the first time I had seen any of the ruffs having a fever; the last time Butch had a fever was because of the various medicines he was taking after the second war. Butch shrugged, unconcerned.

"I'm serious, Butch," I said. "You're not well. Your forehead's burning up."

"Doesn't matter," Butch said. "I not being well don't matter to my big brother. He just wants to freaking kill me with work and load, just 'cause I will be the King after him."

"Okay," I said, jumping over to get him a glass of chilled water. He took it from me, and drank it in one shot. "Should I get you something? Some blood?"

"Blood would be nice," Butch admitted, "But I don't want a feeder's blood. Not anymore, no way."

"Why not?" I asked, perplexed. Butch looked adamant and irresolute, and he turned up the television again, not answering me.

"Butch," I said, grabbing the remote from him and muting it. "Tell me. I can ask someone to get you a jug of blood if you want."

"I said I don't want some freaking feeder's blood," Butch said crossly. I stood in front of him, putting a hand on my waist.

"And I asked why not," I said.

"Because Brick, the _King _has been too nice to tell me that I am utterly and completely dependant on him for everything, _including _blood. That I drink from _his _feeders."

"How long since you had blood?" I asked Butch. He continued to look irritated, and for a second I thought he would not answer me, but he did.

"Awhile."

"Great, that explains the fever," I shut off the TV and sat down on the couch next to him, grabbing a hair band and tying my hair in a knot, baring my neck for him. "Drink."

"What, I didn't mean –"

"Butch, you said you won't have feeder's blood because they were Brick's. Right? Well, you _can _have my blood, as I am _your _mate, because you totally need that blood, all right? I do not mind," I said, getting in his lap and showing him the curve of my neck.

I could feel his breath on my skin, and then his arms, holding me closer. "Okay, fine," He said, though the anger had drained off his voice, and he pressed his lips on my skin.

Butch's POV

It seemed like a really long time since I had had blood from Buttercup. I remembered once, about a year ago, when we had mated. It had been a dreadful, painful memory, but at least this time I knew it wouldn't be painful. This time I was aware this activity would bring both of us emotions that would range from pleasure to disgust and whatnot. It was one of the reasons why neither my brothers nor I fancied drinking blood from our mates much – the experience would become excruciating, though yes, a pleasure as well.

Inch by inch, I savored her, careful, meticulous. Never had I been so careful while feeding, because never had I freely drunk from my Butterbabe. The anger and spite I had against Brick melted away instantly, as I bit her neck. The sweet fire of her blood exploded on my tongue, and emotions so strong and deep stirred inside me, that it took me all I had to keep from groaning loud.

Buttercup moaned, her hands reaching up for my hair, tangling, pulling. I was hardly aware, I was so thirsty, and her blood was like heaven to me, better, stronger.

Feeding from sick whores and feeders had no pleasure, whilst drinking from my mate had the best feeling in the world. Buttercup was taking rapid, long breaths, her back arched, her eyes closed, her hands still messing up my hair.

"Butch," She moaned. I was almost afraid she was going to ask me to stop – I didn't want to, not now. But I had never forced Buttercup to do anything, and I knew if she disliked it, I would find a way to stop myself. It would be hard, but I'd find a way. "Butch, Butch."

Her fingers clutched my back, her nails digging in my skin. I didn't stop, because I could not, the craving I felt was too intense. Nothing could compare to this blissful blessing, nothing could stand against the sensations I felt. I drank deeper, carefully but completely.

"Yes, yes, yes."

Thank God, I thought. If she had asked to stop me, I did not know how I would've done it. I would have stopped, but it would have taken all the power I had. I dig in deeper, until I knew, I had had enough.

I pulled out, licking my teeth, my lips. Buttercup sat frozen in front of me, her chest rising with effortful breathing, her eyes closed. Finally, she looked at me, her lips closing in what was unmistakably a smile. "Want more?" I asked, teasingly.

"If it did not mean draining my life force, then yeah please," Buttercup said, and closed her eyes and arched her neck, as if asking me to really drink more. I grinned, leaning towards her neck, kissed her at the spot where I had bit her. Slowly, I healed her, and once she was totally healed – and I had made sure no drop of blood was left on her – she turned in my lap, kissing me, hungrily.

Did I say nothing could compare to me feeding from Buttercup? Scratch that. Kissing her could actually compete well with drinking her. She was sweet, hot and awesome. She fell under my weight, as I climbed on top of her, holding her down from my mouth. She smelled and even tasted funny, as if of vodka, beer, and scotch.

I would not have stopped, if Buttercup had not pulled away from me, laughing, and grinning. "Butch," She said, mockingly.

"Hmmmm," I muttered, going down to her neck, kissing the spot where I had sucked not so long ago, finding her warm and soft skin comforting and welcoming.

"Stop it, Butch," She was still laughing, I knew. I didn't answer her, lifting her up and half a second later dropping her on our bed, climbing up next to her. Before I really had the chance to feel her, she grabbed my hands, interlocking our fingers together.

"I mean it," She said. "Stop, please."

I stopped, lying down next to her, watching her breath in that stunning way she had. She smiled again, and this time, she climbed on top of _me, _pushing me back and lying down over me.

"How do you expect me to stop?" I muttered, cupping her face from my hands. "You smell of licorice and whiskey, so does your tongue."

Buttercup touched my forehead, and instantly she relaxed. "Your fever's gone," She said, as if that answered my question. She then got off me, and sat down, facing the window outside. "Butch, I… I had to tell you something."

"Ya think?" He asked, conversationally.

"Butch I…I think…" I took a deep breath, and felt his eyes leave my face, travel down my body. Fear and anxiety filled my heart. I bit my lip, preparing for the worse. "I think I am going to die."


	2. Two: The Starting

A Few Years Earlier:

In Professor Utonium's house, with Daughters Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup:

Blossom's POV

"Do you know today is Valentine's Day?" Bubbles cried, walking in the room with her nose buried in a newspaper. I looked up, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ear.

"Seriously?" I asked, shocked. I had almost forgotten! "Oh wow!"

"Huh, Valentine's Day," Buttercup said. "Shouldn't Butch and the brothers be calling us?"

"Yeah," I said blinking. One look at my cell phone confirmed it: zero missed calls or messages. Pursing my lip, I changed the profile to Loud. If Brick called, I wanted to hear it, no matter what Professor thought.

"Girls!" Professor called suddenly, and I just about managed to drop the phone in the dustbin, hiding it in a bundle of papers before Professor appeared in the doorway, looking flushed with happiness. "Guess what?"

"What, Professor?" Bubbles asked, sweetly. Professor was standing really near the dustbin, and cleverly Buttercup snipped a paper off her desk and dropped it in the dustbin, hiding the phone from immediate view.

"I got a date, for Valentine's Day!" Professor said, grandly. My mouth dropped open.

"You did?"

"That's awesome, professor!"

"Wonderful!"

"Who is it?" I asked, excitedly.

"It's Shelby, the neighbourhood doctor!" Professor was beaming, his huge white teeth on full display. "She invited me over to her house at about seven, for dinner. I thought it was a business meeting probably, until I realised it was Valentine's Day!"

Valentine's Day, indeed, I thought bitterly. My Valentine is too busy being a King to give me a call.

"That is great, Professor," I said. "I am sure you will have fun at Shelby's."

"Make sure you stay the night," Buttercup said mischievously. Bubbles looked slightly confused but Professor seemed a bit…disturbed.

"Now, now, you shouldn't say things like that to your father, Buttercup," I butted in before Professor could open his mouth. "That expression is not acceptable at all. Go back to your room."

Buttercup narrowed her eyes slightly, but then turned and left. Bubbles followed her, still trying to understand why I had scolded her in front of our father.

"Blossom," Professor said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, honey. You are one good sister."

"Thank you, Professor," I said. "I try to be a good sister."

"You are one excellent example," Professor said approvingly. "I am really proud to raise such an excellent daughter. You make me proud." He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "I know what you went through is hard, Bloss, knowing that you not are living with your biological father."

I lowered my eyes. According to Professor, I was the only one who remembered that he wasn't our biological father. Professor truly thought that Buttercup and Bubbles still believed that he was our father. Professor was of course, oblivious to the fact we were vampires, and my sisters knew it was obvious he wasn't our true father, since we were an entirely different race.

"Thank you for taking us in," I said in a low voice.

"When you and Buttercup showed up at my doorstep with Bubbles lifted between you, I didn't believe you were just twelve year olds. You looked almost sixteen! But you all were so innocent, so naïve, I couldn't really let you go live in the streets of Townsville alone and unguarded." Professor closed his eyes, as if remembering the horror of that night.

Amazing, fresh tears appeared out of nowhere in my eyes. Despite being vampires and a hell lot stronger than the race around us, my sisters and I had been entirely scared and terrified that lonely night. Professor's house had been the only one which looked welcoming, and when I had knocked, I had had my heart in my throat.

To think that we would be living in a house alone with a man was a scary, but Professor turned out to be more of a father figure. We were thankful, we needed air and a roof, and he provided three unknown girls just that. He had been suffering from the loss of his wife and daughter then, and had felt certainly happy to accept my sisters and I. Sometimes I still think, he would look at his own daughter when he would look at Bubbles. I was more mature to be his little baby girl, and Buttercup obviously more evil.

Bubbles were his baby girl, and he loved her most. But I could never be thankful enough for him to give shelter to the three, broken, poor orphaned girls, lost in a different country.

"Aw, baby girl!" Professor said, hugging me hard. "Don't cry honey! It's okay! Everything is going to be just fine!"

I didn't even know why I was crying. But it felt sure good to be hugged, and the tears became sharper, stinging my eyes as they glided down my cheeks. I had missed Professor a lot, and had especially missed _these _moments, when he was more of a father to me than anyone else could ever be.

"Blossom, honey," Professor said, patting my head gently. "Come on now, be strong. You know you are the best mother figure your sisters could have. You have achieved so much in such a little age. Do you know how proud I am to have you?"

I shook my head, unable to contain my tears. Professor patted my back reassuringly.

"I am so proud of calling you my daughter. After Stella and Ashley…died, I had nobody, Bloss. You, Bubbles and Buttercup became my life. I tried to do the best, I tried to be the best father to you girls."

"You are the best father," I said, pulling away. I was about four inches or so taller than my father, which made the situation look as funny as serious it was.

"Thank you, honey," Professor smiled, patting my cheek. "Now go get your sisters. You people have to help me with my date!"

We picked out a new suit for Professor which made him look good enough. Bubbles gelled up his hair to make it look a good kind of messy, and Buttercup polished his shoes till she could see her reflection in them. I handed him a bouquet of flowers – handpicked from the garden and tied together by my oldest ribbons.

Of course, we didn't have money to buy a good costly bouquet of flowers. How ironic this situation felt.

"How do I look?" Professor asked, glancing at us uncertainly. "Are you sure Shelby will like this look? My hair's all sticking up."

"Shelby will love your hair," Bubbles said, leaning forward and kissing Professor on the cheek.

"Yes, Professor," I said. "You look terrific. Just hand her the bouquet the first minute, and everything else will go fine."

"I am new to this dating thing," Professor said. "How do you girls know about this dating game?"

Uh-oh. I bit my lip. Professor of course knew nothing of our long term relationships – according to him, we were as clueless as he was. I plastered on a big smile. "We don't know about the dating game, Professor. We just know what the girls want."

That seemed like a good enough answer. Professor took a deep breath, checked his breath, and then kissed us all goodbye. He was gone in five minutes, sitting in his old Bummer and roaring down the street.

We watched him go for a moment in silence. "Can't believe he got a Valentine's date and we didn't," Buttercup said, voicing what was going on in all of our minds.

We trudged inside, not in a mood to enjoy our basic freedom. I pulled out my cell from the bin, but there was no call or message from Brick. Frowning, I called him, which was the most unromantic thing ever.

He picked up on the third ring.

"Hey!" He said, sounding out of breath.

"Hey," I said flatly, showing my obvious displeasure.

"I was just about to call you," Brick said. He sounded ecstatic. "Get ready in half an hour. I have somewhere I want to take you."

"I can't," I said shortly.

"Can't or won't?" Brick asked, catching my sarcasm.

"Won't," I said, pursing my lips. "Do you know what's today?"

"Valentine's Day," Brick said. He sounded like he was enjoying some personal joke, which did no good to my anger. "Doesn't matter. Get ready in half an hour, and meet me, okay?"

"Why?" I asked bluntly. "It's not as if you cared to call. Or text."

"Hey, hey," Brick said suddenly serious. "Sorry about that. But I really had work to do the whole day, and my brothers were helping me out… I would have called if I had even a second to spare. I swear."

"Whatever," I said haughtily.

"Bloss listen," Brick said. "Let me make it up to you. Okay? I will come to pick you up."

I hung up, irritated. But then I realised I hadn't really declined to his offer. Maybe that was because I really wanted to see him. It was Valentine's Day, and it had been ages since I had seen him. I sighed, throwing my phone on the bed. Stupid boys.

**HEYYY! So this, is like, the second chapter of my story Treacherous! I am like, so excited. I had this in my mine for some time now. Finally I get to share it! ;) Please, Please do comment here, okay? Review please if you like it.**

**I need inspiration, and your reviews can be encouraging, you know that!**

**LJ**


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